


Faith

by The_Original_Gamer



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Original_Gamer/pseuds/The_Original_Gamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Its a symbol of faith Matt, to God. You know about God, right?' Mello's a devout Catholic. Matt...well. Matt has his own view of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

_'Its a symbol of faith Matt, to God. You know about God, right?' _

The simple phrase played about my consciousness as I held on tightly to the leather clad blonde settled on the motorcycle in front of me. I had successfully molded myself against his lean, muscled frame, taking comfort in the warmth and feel of his body against mine. It was better then nicotine, the warm, tingling feelings that coursed through my veins, fighting back anxiety and tension better then any drug had the hopes to. Mello said nothing, made no acknowledgment as I rested my chin on his shoulder, lips connecting with his jaw. Helmets had been neglected, so their annoying bulk did not have to be dealt with.

Believe it or not, that phrase did have something to do with the situation, if vaguely.

I knew our destination the moment Mello had woken me from the sleep I'd fallen into mid working. (That Amane chick was a bore, and I was still awaiting a chance to spring the new Kingdom Hearts game, so it wasn't really my fault.) The look in his eyes told everything, and I didn't need the usual amounts of caffeine to find myself completely alert again. That look was always like a knife to the chest, or a bucket of icy water dumped over me. It wasn't Mello, not the Mello I knew. It was lost, and broken, and so completely hopeless that I doubted even my own ability to help him. I didn't receive that sort of look often, but when I did there was just one thing on Mello's mind.

Getting to the nearest Catholic church and dragging my skinny ass along with him. As usual, I put up no complaint, felt no need to. It was what he wanted, and apparently needed.

'Sides, what was going to happen? Worst case scenario is I get smitten or whatever the second I walked through the doors. And that had yet to happen. Then again, last time I was in a church Mello hadn't yet had the idea to add fucking me to his list of things to do...and keep doing. Of course, it might not have helped that I didn't give God much credit for...well anything.

Okay...scratch that. Worst case scenario would be the church collapsing the moment I set foot on its steps. Wouldn't that be interesting...

The engine cut off on the bike, drawing me back to reality. Mello but his gloved hands over mine, forcing them away in order to release himself from my grip. Taking the hint, I eased my arms from around him, sliding off the motorcycle. My eyes were glued on the building before me, by far bigger then any church I'd ever been in before. Not that I'd been in many churches, but you get the point. It was frickin' huge. I could imagine fitting our entire complex into that place.

I wasn't given much time to admire. The thud of Mello's boots against the pavement caught my attention, though he nudged my lower back as if to make sure, urging me forward. When I went to take his hand, he only gave mine a slight squeeze, before heading into the church solo. Naturally I was quick to follow after him, bounding up the steps in a manner that may have suggested I was fearing being left alone. Which I wasn't by the way. I just wanted to see if the church looked cool inside too, or if it would be like something straight out of a horror movie, all dusty and old and stuff.

It was sort of a cross between both, I discovered as I cautiously entered the church behind Mello. Yes cautiously, I seriously didn't want to get...hit by lightening or something! Not that the chances of that were very high, but a guy had his right to be a little anxious every now and then.

I wondered if the door to this place was always unlocked, or if Mello had picked a lock or something. That would be an interesting crime, breaking and entering of a church. Heh.

The only source of light to the big sanctuary was the moonlight pouring through the large stain glassed window. A silver glow was cast over the pews and such, save for where it was disrupted by bursts of more colorful light from the staining of the glass. My gaze shifted to Mello, who had his own eyes focused on the large cross behind the alter. The cross that bore the world known man labeled savior to all Christians. Jesus freaking Christ. And not in one of his finest moments, we all know the story of his crucifixion...

He broke down.

Mello, ever strong, ever fiery, ever brilliant Mello, broke down. Right at the foot of the alter, on his knees, palms on the floor and head bowed. I didn't dare move towards him, pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate it. Instead I set down on the edge of a nearby pew, leaning forward on my elbows on my knees, eyes never leaving Mello.

His shoulders were shaking slightly, fingers clenched as if he wished to dig them right into the hard flooring. One hand moved to wrap around the ever present rosary at his neck, clinging onto it as if it were the very thing that kept him alive. All the while he was murmuring under his breath, words I couldn't' catch, but would safely assume were prayer.

I'd seen Mello curse God in his rages. I'd seen him screaming in an upwards direction, apparently towards the big guy himself and not just our upstairs neighbors. He cursed, and accused, and blasphemed in only ways that Mello could. Yet despite his fits of anger towards the supposed god, he never once removed the rosary. Nor did he miss a night without a prayer. I knew he did it, and I knew he tried to hide it from me, whether out of embarrassment, or just the urge for privacy. He prayed, every night, whether we were at the base, or together at home, or anywhere really.

Mello really believed in God. He didn't seem to like him much a lot of the time, but still he remained unchanged in his faith.

_'Mels, why do you wear this?' The small fingers of the young redhead brushed against the beading of Mello's ever present rosary. The older paused, as if not wanting to answer. Soon though, a small scoffing noise escaped him; best as a seven year old could manage anyhow._

_'Its a symbol of faith Matt, to God. You know about God, right?' For a moment, Matt had a frown on his face, and his head was tilted quizzically._

_'Sure I know about God Mel,' His childish voice was unusually stiff, but that only lasted as second. One of those sunshiny smiles of his lit his face, and he leaned in against Mello. 'Do you _believe_ in God Mels?' Leave it to Matt to ask questions, and blatant ones at that._

_The blonde wormed a protective arm around the thin child against him, nodding in a grave fashion. 'Yeah, I believe in God Matt. He gave me you,' It was the first of the rare tender sentiments the redhead would ever receive from his companion, and it stuck like no other._

The memory that built of the phrase that had earlier been stuck in my mind played over before my closed eyes. Mello believed in God, probably always had, and would until the day he died. He believed God had given me to him, even as a young kid. To be honest though, I'd never really gotten the whole 'God' thing.

Sure I knew the stories, had actually read the bible once, but I didn't actually _get_ it. I'd never been especially religious, had no drive to be. I wasn't going to worship some guy who got it into his head to destroy everything he created just because one chick had screwed up and therefore the whole world was supposedly disgusting. And even if there really were a God, why would he create lower beings to worship him? This guy sounded like one cocky bastard. No just cocky, but some decieving, hateful, cruel pain in the ass as well.. If he really loved us...why did he put people through what he did? Innocent people who sure as hell did not deserve to have their lives crumble around them. Mello? He did not deserve to have his life fall apart the way it had to stick him where he was now. Sure we might never have met, but then at least he'd have a normal life where he wasn't at risk of death at every corner. Why would we waste our times worshipping someone who just let our lives fall to pieces? To me, this entire thing seemed completely pointless

At the moment, it seemed Mello had a different opinion entirely.

Still his shoulders shook, and I wondered if he were holding back tears. I'd only seen Mello cry a handful of times, and everytime he just burst with pent up emotion. Now seemed like that sort of time, the words falling of his lips were more frenzied, almost like a plead. I wanted to go over, to help him, hold him, anything, but I refrained still. Mello came here to be with God, not me. If he thought he could be with the guy, so be it, I'd leave him to it.

"Matt," It might have been hours before he spoke, and his voice was hoarse, low. When I glanced over at him again, I found him looking at me, expression the same as it had been when he'd come to retrieve me earlier tonight. I stood, moving to his side swiftly when he urged me forward. Instantly he tore the rosary from his neck, dropping it over my head and muttering some prayer too quick for me to catch. I was fairly sure it was Latin, by the rhthym of the words, which would make sense I guessed.

What didn't make sense was Mello's behavior. Never before had he acted like this, so on edge and open, for once leaving most of his mask behind, the half that hid the bad emotions. "Mail," He murmured, and I knew he was serious by the fact that he used my given name. A rare act, but one not to be taken lightly. "Mail, pray. I don't want to hear your 'I don't believe in God' speel, just do it." It would have sounded more like the fiery, sure Mello I was used to if not for the anxiety laced into his tone.

"Mels...I don't-"

"Damnit Matt, just do it. For me. You know the plan tommorow, I told you. Pray for it to work, let God know you really do believe."

Oh. So that was what this was all about, I got it now. It was no special day, nothing significant about it that might have Mello acting as such. January 25th, your average, dull, unimportant date. Tommorow was his plan to kidnap Takada, of course he would be worked up about it. I almost laughed at the simplicity of it all, but I held back. My hand rested on the side of Mello's neck, brushing a few golden strands out of the way.

"Mels, we're not going to die if thats why you're doing all this." I shook my head, giving as reassuring a smile as I could muster. Mello did not return it. "Sides, I've sinned enough I doubt the big guy would let me in even if I did start worshipping him." The joking had a negative effect, as Mello stiffened, knocking my hand away and glowering at me.

"This is not the time Matt. I'm serious." His voice was stiff, more and more like his regular self, though his eyes were still holding uncharacteristic masses of panic.

"I'm serious too Mels. You're overreacting. Everything will be fine, we aren't going to die. The plan will work, why else would we go through with it?" With that I stood, slipping the rosary over my head again and pressing it into Mello's palm. There was a moment where he looked like he might tug me back down, before an agitated sigh left him. He stood as well, facing the alter one last moment and doing that odd crossing movement over his chest with his hand as I'd seen him do often enough.

Every sign of his previous anxiety was gone. Mello was no longer tense, no longer shaking, and his face was at its usual expression again. Stiff and angry. I didn't know whether to be relieved, or to be worried that maybe he was just keeping the anxiety pent up all over again. The urge to try and help was overwhelming, but I knew there wasn't much I could do.

On the church steps, I reached out for Mello's wrist, catching it and stopping him. "Mel..."

"What do you want Matt?" He turned to face me, a faint scowl on his lips, though it looked more tired then anything. Silently, I stepped closer, looping my arms around him and holding him to my chest. At first he stiffened, but that lasted only a second before he relaxed again, returning the embrace with one arm and resting his chin on my head.

"We're going to be fine Mello, I swear. We don't need any God. Only eachother. I'll have faith in you, and you'll have faith in me. It'll all work out," I could just feel his protest coming on, and I only held him tighter, trying to convince him otherwise. "Mello...listen to me, this once."

Mello pulled back, though his arms still hung loose around my waist. His eyes met mine through the orange plastic of my goggles, studying my expression and trying to see into my eyes. Without being told, I dropped the accessory from my face, meeting his eyes again without hesitation.

"I have to believe in God Matt, I always have. Where else would I have-"

"Gotten me?" I finished in offer, as I sensed his hesitation at finishing the sentence. His jaw stiffened, maybe in embarassment at the idea he hadn't brought up in so long, but he nodded nevertheless. I scoffed in response, shaking my head again. "You didn't get me 'cos of any God, just like I didn't get you for the same reasons. Its just us Mello, like I said."

Another protest was cut off as I sealed my lips onto his, holding him close and pouring every ounce of faith I had for him into that kiss.

I didn't need God. I had Mello. If I went to hell for choosing the blonde over him, then so be it. In the end, it would all be worth it. That didn't matter at the moment though, because we weren't dying any time soon. I would be twenty in a handful of days, and Mello and I...well we still had a life to live.

That night before returning home, we stocked up on the most expensive cigarettes and chocolate we could find, all to celebrate a plan gone well. It would go well, I'd be sure of that. All it takes is a little faith.


End file.
